


Alehouse Games

by oddsnends



Category: The Last Kingdom (TV)
Genre: Humor, lick slap fondle, writing game
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-04
Updated: 2019-03-04
Packaged: 2019-11-09 08:23:33
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 928
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17998337
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/oddsnends/pseuds/oddsnends
Summary: Part of a tumblr writing game





	Alehouse Games

**Author's Note:**

> Part of a tumblr writing game

You're shocked at the suggestion from the quiet Dane, at the hint of unexpected mischief that turns up the corners of his lips. You can't help but laugh. "So I lick one, slap one, and fondle one? Where did you learn this?" 

Sihtric's face is the picture of innocence as he winks. "I'm not as young as I look, you know." He shepherds Finan, Osferth, and Aethelwold onto a bench and instructs them to close their eyes. "Lady's choice." He smiles and hands you a cup of ale. "To help your choice."

Sihtric was going to be the death of you. Never the less, you accepted the ale and downed it as quickly as any man. Cup back on the table beside you, with a clank.

Such an interesting choice, the three men that the - not as young as he looked - Dane had marched in here. On the bench they sat, Osferth’s hands clasped in his lap as if he were praying, which he probably was the poor boy. Finan with that cocky grin that you had come to loath. Despite his Irish charm and obvious good looks. Then there was Aethelwold, the dirty bastard himself. He looked almost as terrified as Osferth, no doubt expecting you to clock him at any point in this game.

“Well?” Sihtric asked with his arms folded across his chest. “What will it be?”

“Patience,” You grin calculating your first move.

On the bench, Osferth sat, hands still in his lap as he prayed his innocent little heart out. Might as well have a go at him first, to put him out of his misery. What you were about to do would no doubt only cause him to pray some more anyway.

“Osferth.” You stand over him, your hand gently on his shoulder. With his eye closed, he jerk his head toward the sound of your voice. How cruel of Sihtric to include the young monk. “If you don’t want to do this,” You send Sihtric a death glare when he opens his mouth to protest.

“I do, lady.” Osferth’s voice was less than convincing. “I am a man and a warrior, it is time that I act like such.” From the end of the bench Aethelwold snickers, slapping him is even more tempting.

“If you say.” You pat his shoulders.

“Good on ya, Baby Monk. Now can we get on with this game?” Finan presses.

“Forgive me.” You lean to whisper in Osferth’s ear, straddling his lap you are sure Sithtric is grinning with pure, evil, delight behind you at the show. Osferth gulps. Beneath you the warrior shakes like a leaf, yet you are committed now.

Hands threading through his hair, you tilt his head back and aim for your target. Tracing his adam’s apple with your tongue, Sihtric whistles, while Osferth turns crimson. Seconds felt like days, before you stand and command him to open his eyes.

“Lady, I…W…I…” Osferth stammers absolutely flabbergasted.

“Go.” You smile and wave your hand to send him on his way, turning to Sihtric when Osferth takes his cue and scampers off. “Why must you pick on him?”

“Why must you keep stalling?” Sihtric poses the question. “You still have two left.”

“Come on, will ya? Slap the worm and give me what I want. I have ale to drink.” Finan interrupts with a laugh, his eyes still closed.

Slapping Aelthelwold would be all too easy, the boy needed a good smack in the side of the head. Lucky for him not two days ago, Finan had failed to come round after promising you the finest evening his lord’s coin could buy. And then there was a matter of currently running his mouth.

“Shut up.” Aethelwold whines at Finan. “Although, I agree, can we go on with this?”

“One licked, now to fondle and slap.” Sihtric beams.

“Yes, well the choice should be easy.” Finan continues to run that damn mouth.

“Mmm, yes, you’ve no idea how easy.” You purr passing Finan to stand before Aethelwold. Sensing your presence, Aethelwold flinches readying himself for what is about to come.

Why had he agreed to this? He knew what the outcome would be. Damn Danes. If he was left with your hand print on his face, Sihtric would be….he yelped and nearly leaped from his seat.

“What?” You feign innocence. “Oh come now, Aethelwold. Have you not had a lady fondle your balls before?”

“Of course I have, I…” Was he really at a loss for words. “I was not expecting that, is all.”

“Wait just a second!” Finan stood, eyes still closed - because he wasn’t about to break the rules of the games. “You, you…”

Before another word came from that damn Irish mouth of his, your hand connected with his cheek. A fresh snap of palm hitting skin rang through the alehouse. Finan opened his eyes, Aethelwold gasped and Sihtric tried to hide his laughter.

“What do you think you’re doing?”

“What do I think I am doing?” You echoed. “I will tell you, what I am doing, I am sick of your bloody mouth always shooting off and the lies. If you want to bed me properly then do so, but stop with these empty promises.”

You can’t seem to stop yourself, another slap landing across Finan’s cheek. Huffing, you turn on your heel with hands on your hip. “Thank you for the drink and the entertainment, Sihtric. I must go now. Finan, if you want to take that offer then I suggest you stop sulking and follow now.”


End file.
